


Attachments

by PhenixFleur



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Early in Canon, Emotional Constipation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, I guess that death tag isn't really necessary but just to be safe, Not that they realize it yet, Parent-Child Relationship, Regina and Graham are only mentioned, That's pretty much my deal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 13:30:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6568213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhenixFleur/pseuds/PhenixFleur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma has a bit of trouble dealing with her emotions following Graham's death. Mary Margaret is there to help her sort everything out. (Takes place in Season One.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Attachments

**Author's Note:**

> I just started watching Once Upon a Time and immediately fell in love with the friendship between Emma and Mary Margaret (given their actual relationship) and wanted to write something quick for it. It's my first time writing for this fandom, so commentary definitely appreciated!

There were a variety of things Emma Swan made a point of avoiding, ranging from developing too much of an attachment to anyone whatsoever to settling in one place for too long. Historically neither of these things had turned out to be a good idea in the end, and after twenty-eight years of having her roots severed time and time again remaining emotionally isolated had become more of a reflex than a conscious decision.

Which is why it came as such a shock to her that the death of (now former) Sheriff Graham knocked her off of her feet _at all_ after having only known him, and the rest of the town, for that matter, for such a short period of time. Prior to Henry showing up on her doorstep and dragging her out to Storybrooke, breaking off any sort of relationship or friendship that she’d accidentally fallen into would have been rather easy. So the fact that she not only shed tears over his passing but felt quite numb for awhile afterwards eluded her. 

Actually experiencing grief for the first time in probably years was both painful and frustrating. Despite having cried over his body right up until the paramedics arrived to attempt to resuscitate him (she knew right off that bat that it was futile, he was _dead_ , people died, nothing you can do about it, pull yourself together), she managed to remain calm at the hospital until Mary Margaret arrived to usher her home. She remained calm throughout the consequent lavish funeral (compliments of the Mayor of Storybrooke) while gritting her teeth tightly enough to make her jaw hurt as _that woman_ took it upon herself to perform the eulogy as well, wiping tears from her cheeks while Emma imagined her fist connecting with them. She remained calm after returning to the apartment following a reception that she only made a cursory appearance at; she couldn’t stand the expressions of sympathy directed at either herself nor Regina, nor the blatantly smug smirk clearly directed at her when no one was looking.

Back at the apartment, Emma curled up in bed and stared at nothing for the longest time. Her chest hurt at first, which struck her as ironic, but this was no heart attack. It disappeared as quickly as it had come, thankfully leaving her be.

She stayed that way for the rest of the night, and most of the next day - she knew she had to return to the Sheriff’s office at some point, but hopefully crime could wait for at least twenty-four hours (not that there was much of it to be concerned with in Storybrooke, anyway). From a logical standpoint it would have made sense to pass the time mentally leafing through her memories of the deceased; that was what normal people did after losing someone, but her thoughts remained fleeting; she didn’t have enough of them regarding Graham to dwell on in the first place, nor could she focus long enough to grasp them even if she had. 

She heard the door shut, indicating that Mary Margaret was home from work, but she made no attempt to move in response. She didn’t feel like it. If she was completely honest with herself, she didn’t feel much of anything. Perhaps that was what Graham had meant about not having a heart - that sort of internal emptiness that was noteworthy because something had once been there, making the absence stand out even more prominently. 

Soft footsteps approached, and a weight settled onto the bed beside her. “Henry asked about you today.” The teacher’s voice was as soothing as ever, genuinely sympathetic without being overwhelming. “He was wondering how you were holding up.”

“It’s not the end of the world,” Emma replied, stunned at how flat the words sounded. “I hadn’t even known him that long.”

Mary Margaret paused for a minute before continuing; it seemed as if she was attempting to avoid agitating her roommate or being too patronizing. “You’d be surprised how close you can get to someone in a very short period of time.”

This was true, although for Emma it came moreso in regards to Mary herself instead of Graham. Perhaps it was merely the teacher’s caring demeanor, but being around her made Emma feel _safe_ , somehow, as strange and nonsensical as that was, and that was unsettling on its own because it meant she was getting attached to yet another person that would one day disappear from her life, sooner or later. 

With that thought in mind she stiffened, pulling away from the hand resting on her shoulder and struggling to find the right words to tell Mary Margaret to piss off, she didn’t need any help, she was _fine_ …

The weight on the bed shifted, and she suddenly found herself pulled into a surprisingly tight embrace that she couldn’t bring herself to shake off. “You know I’m here if you need to get anything off your chest, right?”

“For now” lingered on the tip of Emma’s tongue, sliding back as Mary seemed to read her mind at that exact moment. “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

The reassurance, spoken so sincerely from someone she’d also known for a very short while - but it felt like much, much longer - awakened a sensation in her chest that she hadn’t felt since crawling into bed the day before, sharp pain centered around her heart, rising into her throat as the first tear slid down her cheek, followed by another, and yet another. Mary Margaret held her close as she cried for the second time in the past few days, gently humming a tune that was vaguely familiar while running a hand over her hair in a maternal fashion that Emma had never known. 

The next morning Emma woke up, made her way into the bathroom and poked at the swollen flesh beneath her eyes with a heavy sigh. The pain had yet to fade completely, but it did appear to be much less intense than the day before. She placed her hand over her heart experimentally for a few seconds, taking note of the fact that it was, indeed, beating. 

Then she headed off to see if there was still time to have breakfast with Mary before she left for school.


End file.
